[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XV1PIyT.jpg?2[/img][/center]

[b]Greco Jewelers
Bronx, NY[/b]

Emil Greco begins locking up his store for the night. Business was good today. Both of them. Plenty of cash to funnel to the boss as well as his own pocket. That was always a good night. He makes sure the cases are all locked tight, and presses a button that drops the security gate over the front facade and display cases. Greco had learned the hard way that being part of the mob wasn't enough security. There was a time when being part of a family meant no one would mess with you without a formal declaration. There used to be rules. Now there is just the freaks in the costumes.

Emil heard stories from friends in Gotham. The Batman sounds like a real piece of work, but even he seems to have rules. The new Spider-Woman seems to have rules. But the one who wears the skull on his chest, the one that calls himself the Punisher. He doesn't have anything but a blood lust. What he did to those men last night was disgusting. There's no honor in what he does. Only rage and violence.

There used to be rules.

Greco finishes inside the shop, and heads out into the alley where his car and guards would be waiting for him. As the door opens, however, it's clear that something is wrong. His two guards are unconscious, tied up by a thin, almost translucent string. One of them moans in pain, while the other is completely unconscious.

"What the?"

Before Greco can react, I kick the door closed from my perch on top of the dumpster next to it. He turns to face me, attempting to draw a gun. As he pulls it from its holster, I web up his hand and fire a line from my other hand up to the top of the building. I turn back to him and smile, [color=ec008c][b]"Ever go on one of those slingshot rides at the boardwalk? No? Well get ready!"[/b][/color]

I yank on the side connected to the building, sending the two of us flying towards the rooftops. The entire time, the mobster screams bloody murder, clearly terrified for his life. Good. That's the idea.

When we get to the top, I toss him into the air, allowing the line he's on to go to its full length before dropping him down the alleyway. He bounces slightly on the webline, "Oh god I don't wanna die! Don't kill me!"

I have to laugh at that as I haul him back up. Detaching the webline and hanging him from the building's fire escape, I climb down to look him in the eye, [color=ec008c][b]"Oh, don't worry, Emil. I'm not going to kill you. But I can't guarantee the Punisher won't. He seems to have a real crush on you and your friends."[/b][/color]

"You don't have to tell me that you crazy freak!" he spits and cries. "He already hit my store up. Wrecked the place real good and stole some of my best merchandise while I was locked up in my panic room!"

So this is where he got his guns. That's good to know. It also means the police were right in believing Greco is a small arms dealer. Once this is all over, at least there will be one more of them off the streets. The Kingpin and Silvio Manfredi will lose another source of death in New York.

[color=ec008c][b]"So he did get his guns from your supply,"[/b][/color] I pat him on the face. [color=ec008c][b]"When? And how?"[/b][/color]

The mobster tries to struggle against the webbing on his hand, and I look at him sideways, [color=ec008c][b]"You do know that if you cut that off you're going to fall like four stories, right? Now, I'm not a doctor but I would think that fall would kill you. At the very least I'd think it'd paralyze you. Either way, not the funnest thing in the world."[/b][/color]

"He blew out my windows, killed two of my guards and crippled a third," Greco snarls at me. "He somehow knew about the button below my cases that reveal the guns beneath the jewels. I managed to scramble into the panic room while he took what he wanted. He took ones that I didn't have time to file down. Knew they would lead right back to me eventually."

The Punisher certainly is smart. Stealing guns from someone who shouldn't be selling them in the first place. Cops would eventually come around to pick up the guy who supplied the murder weapons.

[color=ec008c][b]"And you couldn't call the cops because you'd give yourself away,"[/b][/color] I realize another genius reason for Punisher taking these guns. [color=ec008c][b]"But you have to have video of him. Something from the security cameras? Anything that could lead me to him?"[/b][/color]

"You want to catch the maniac?" Emil is shocked. "I figured you costumed freaks all run in the same circles."

[color=ec008c][b]"Not me and this guy,"[/b][/color] I respond, deadly serious. [color=ec008c][b]"I'm not a cold blooded murderer. This guy does it and makes it look like an art form. Whether he's doing it to bad people or not, he's eventually going to kill someone innocent. And that I can't allow."[/b][/color]

Emil Greco considers his predicament for a while. Sure, there's a chance someone heard his screams and called for help. It's also just as likely as someone thinking it was just the screams of another New York wino pissing away his life. Actually, those circumstances are probably the more likely scenario. He clearly doesn't like the idea of helping me, but he realizes he doesn't have any other choice, "Fine. Let me back in the shop and I'll get you his face."

[color=ec008c][b]"Okay,"[/b][/color] I smile, [color=ec008c][b]"but just to warn you, I have super speed and reflexes. You try to pull anything, and you will be spending a few weeks in the ICU. Understand?"[/b][/color]

"That's about the first thing you've said that I'm used to in this line of work," the greasy mobster smiled, a single gold tooth in the front of his grin gleaming in the street light.

The two of us head back into the shop after I free him from the webbing, as well as disarm him from his gun. He walks up to his computer and begins unlocking it. He brings up the security cam footage and waves his hand as if presenting it to me, "There you go. A deal's a deal."

[color=ec008c][b]"Thanks!"[/b][/color] I wave with a chipper disposition before webbing him to the wall. To Pete over the comms, I say, [color=ec008c][b]"Okay we're in."[/b][/color]

"What the hell are you-"

[i][b]*THWIP*[/b][/i]

I cover the mobster's mouth with webbing, [color=ec008c][b]"Shush, this is a work call, and it's kind of important."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Just put the drive into the computer,"[/color] Pete responds. [color=0054a6]"Just like I did with your dad's."[/color]

I do as my friend says, and stare into the eyes of the Punisher, his form frozen on the security camera footage. My comments about him being a machine seem all the more based in reality. As he fires a gun at the two guards, there is no emotion in his eyes. There's no fury or malice. There's only a cold, calculating gaze. How someone can dole out so much death with so little feeling is beyond me. Hell, it's beyond any rational person.

[color=0054a6]"Okay, I have his face, going to try and match it against the NYPD facial recognition database. That should-Whoa okay that was fast,"[/color] Pete is surprised when the match dings in front of him. [color=0054a6]"Holy crap...he's a cop. The Punisher is a cop. Name's Frank Castle. Looks like he's got a stellar record too."[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Get me an address,"[/b][/color] I ask Pete. [color=ec008c][b]"I'll head that way once I'm done here."[/b][/color]

Turning, I see Greco struggling against the webbing, and I shake my head. He won't be getting out of that any time soon. I search under the front desk for the button he said reveals the armory he keeps hidden. I find two. Pressing the first does nothing, but the second transformers the store. Each jewelery case folds back to reveal handguns, rifles, and high powered automatic weapons. Suddenly, it dawns on me what the other button did, [color=ec008c][b]"Oh I just called the cops, didn't I? Jewelry store panic button? Well, that saves a step. Enjoy jail, Emil. I'm guessing you'll be there a while."[/b][/color]

Next to the computer I notice a pad of sticky notes. I grab a pen, jot down a note, and stick it to the trapped arms dealer.

[color=ec008c][i][b]Courtesy of your friendly, neighborhood Spider-Woman. :)[/b][/i][/color]

[center]**********[/center]

The scene outside of Frank Castle's apartment building looks like a triage from the Civil War. Cops nursing wounds, bloody sheets, and cries and moans of pain. Abandoned squad cars from the haste to catch the man sit on the sidewalk, lights flashing and illuminating the street in red and blue. Behind them are the ambulances treating the wounded. Looks like the cops found Castle before I did, and I curse myself for being too slow. If I had found him first, maybe these people would have been spared.

Then the thought crosses my mind.

[color=ec008c][i][b]Dad.[/b][/i][/color]

I quickly call my father, and when he picks up I can tell he's shaken, but not injured, [color=7bcdc8]"Sweetheart, I can't talk now. Important business."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Okay dad,"[/color] my voice sounds relieved. [color=ec008c]"Just wanted to check on you. Love ya."[/color]

Hanging up, I call Peter back, [color=ec008c][b]"Pete, see if you can tap into the police scanner. NYPD found Frank first. There's wounded. Don't know if there's any casualties."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Okay, will do,"[/color] he says tentatively. [color=0054a6]"Is your dad okay?"[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]"Yea, he's fine, I just called him."[/b][/color]

[color=0054a6]"Oh thank god,"[/color] he sighs with relief as I hear the scanner tuning in the background. [color=0054a6]"Okay...I think...Yea, it sounds like Castle escaped on foot. At least that's what they think."[/color]

He couldn't have gotten far, and he definitely didn't come out this way. Which means one of the side alleys. Good thing I can run across rooftops.

[color=ec008c][i][b]You are not getting away that easily you maniac.[/b][/i][/color]